


So Far in Running

by myicedcoffee



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Internal Conflict, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Unrequited Crush, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:54:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28852386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myicedcoffee/pseuds/myicedcoffee
Summary: "'I bet you a month’s worth of compsci homework and a muffin that you can’t make it through all two weeks of winter break without breaking and telling your mum the truth.'That's probably the stupidest thing Dream had ever heard come out of George’s mouth, and that was saying a lot, but saying no to George had proven to be an unnecessarily hard thing to do.So, of course, Dream finds himself looking George dead in the face yet again, holding his hand out to shake on it.'Deal,' he grumbles, but he can feel the grin tugging on his face, and he knows George can see it too."Or,Chocolate chip muffins, a bet, and a fake relationship. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 217





	1. How Bad Could It Be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic as a whole was originally based on the song sofarinrunning by raccoontour (highly recommend, i adore raccoontour), however, i wrote this entire chapter while listening to how bad can i be from the lorax on loop and i feel like that's worth sharing. jokes aside this is the first fic i've written in quite a bit n im glad to be able to get back into it in a fandom that i genuinely enjoy & a writing style im happy with [: enjoy !

“This is bullshit, Karl. You _completely_ half-assed your own dare, you can’t tell me I didn’t do mine right! That’s not fair!”

Dream chuckles, letting his eyes close as he feels the soft material of the chair behind his head and watches the soft lights emitting from the LEDs dance over his eyelids. His friends’ arguing starts to grow quieter as he slips away, feeling the pull of sleep tug on him already. Just before he drifts off completely, a shrill voice rings through the small room. Dream jerks awake, eyes open and suddenly alert.

“ _Dream_! Earth to Dream? Did you hear me?”

Dream looks over to George, feeling a sheepish smile creep across his face as he shifts in his spot, moving his knees into a criss-cross position. “No, sorry. I’m a little sleepy, long day of classes. What’d you say?”

George rolls his eyes. “I _said_ that since Karl is being a _pissbaby_ , it’s your turn for truth or dare. I’m done playing with that _cheater_ ,” he says, directing the last bit at Karl, who just makes a face at him before turning back to Sapnap. 

He snorts. “George, truth or dare is a game for, like, 7th graders. I don’t want to play.” He can already feel his eyes getting heavy again and he’s about to go back to resting his head on the armchair behind him when Sapnap pipes up from the corner of the room. 

“Dude, what are you, a pussy? All the rest of us have already played a round, it’s your turn. Why’d you want to hang with us tonight if you weren’t gonna actually _do_ anything?”

“This is my dorm, Sap. You’re sitting on my bed.”

Sapnap looks down at the bed and back up at Dream, looking at him for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and laying back against the wall. “C’mon, Dream. There’s nothing else to do, and you can’t sleep in your nice, warm, cozy bed until I leave,” he laughs. Dream sighs.

“And you’ll leave if I play your dumbass game?”

“Not with that attitude, I won’t!” 

Dream rolls his eyes, letting out an exaggerated breath. He doesn’t respond, opting to glare at Sapnap instead, hoping he’ll eventually give it up and he can finally get some rest. He’d barely slept for the past few days, and he was desperate for more than 3 hours of sleep.

But of course he wasn’t going to get that. Of course it could never be that easy.

“Truth, or _dare_ ,” Sapnap says, leaning forward slightly with a shit eating grin plastered across his face. 

He wasn’t getting out of this.

“Dare.”

Sapnap’s grin grows even wider, and he sits up slightly as he makes a big show of tapping his finger on his chin and saying “ _hmmm_ ” at loud intervals. As Sapnap’s smile grows bigger and bigger, Dream’s exasperation grows with it. He just wants to be done and go to sleep, and Sapnap was making that _unnecessarily_ hard. 

“Sapnap, come on, fucking spit it out! This is so _stupid_!”

“Okay, fine! I dare you... to go against George in a round of drunk Jenga. If you lose, you have to give him your mom’s number. If you win, he has to make breakfast every day for the next month.”

“Dude, that’s complete horseshit. I lose either way, George’s cooking sucks.”

Sapnap shrugs. “Take it or leave it, man. But if you leave it there’s a penalty.”

Dream takes it, knowing the “penalty” is undoubtedly being unable to sleep in his bed. But that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. 

Dream _sucks_ at Jenga, and he can feel the floor begin to sway beneath him as he continuously knocks the tower down and drinks more and more. He knows he’s going to lose no matter what, there are only two rounds left and his head feels like a rock, but there’s no way he’s going out without a fight. 

“No, no, no, son of a _bitch_ , I’m going to _kill_ you, George! What the hell?” 

George doubles over with uncontrollable giggles at the sight of Dream’s incredulous expression. Dream had been so close to actually winning a round, he had almost gotten the final block he needed without messing up, when George slid his arms around Dream and started _tickling_ him. 

“That was cheating! You fucking cheated, George, what the hell!” Dream lunges towards him and George shrieks, darting away and shaking his head. 

“It doesn’t matter, _Dream_. You were gonna lose either way, at least I know how to make things interesting.”

“I’d hardly call cheating ‘ _making things interesting_ ,'” Dream scowls. He leans over and snatches George’s phone from his hands, throwing one last glare at him before punching in George’s password and then his mom’s phone number. He throws the phone back at George, missing him and letting it bounce off the bed while he stands up, stretching his arms out and turning away from George and the bed that Sapnap and Karl are sitting on. 

He ignores George’s whines about his phone and makes his way over to the minifridge tucked behind the couch. He reaches in to grab a water bottle, noticing the sudden silence from the other side of the room. He wants nothing more than to sit back down and close his eyes, relishing in the newfound peace, but he knows it won’t last. He lets out one last long breath before turning back to face his friends, and is surprised to see them huddled together on the bed, giggling like idiots and pointing at George’s phone.

Yeah, they definitely did something Dream was about to fucking hate.

Taking a long swig from the bottle of water, he flops down onto the bed next to them and cranes his neck to look at George’s phone, and he can’t say he’s surprised when he sees them actually putting his mom’s number to use. He’s about to laugh it off and get back up, maybe try to finally kick them all out since it was nearing two in the morning, when he does a double take and stares at the screen with an incredulous look on his face. 

“George?”

No response.

He leans over, flicking his friend on the shoulder in an attempt to gain his attention back. “ _George_ , what the hell is that tex-” 

He’s cut short by Sapnap slapping down the hand that he had raised to grab the phone, who then pushes him over onto the floor and turns back, snickering, to George and Karl without a second glance. Dream pushes himself up and stumbles over to the desk in the far corner of the room, grumbling and laying his head down on the surface of the desk after crossing his legs on the chair and pulling them close. 

If there was one good thing about his friends acting like a bunch of middle schoolers, it was that he could finally get his long-awaited good night’s sleep, and his mumbles about _unfairness_ and _betrayal_ cease as he passes out cold the second his head hits his arms. 

\---

“I’m not angry, George. Just disappointed.” 

Dream tries to fight the grin off his face as he gently turns back and forth in his chair, eyes sliding over the soft glow of rainbow light that his keyboard and monitors cast over his desk and legs. He spins around to look at George as he speaks to see him sitting on the floor, rolling his eyes and leaning against the foot of the bed behind him. 

“Oh, come on, Dream,” he says with a light scoff. “It was a joke. I was _joking_.”

Dream looks away and feigns ignorance, fixing his gaze on a particularly interesting spot of drywall about 4 feet away instead. When he remains unresponsive, George shifts slightly in his spot and clears his throat softly. 

“So, um... you aren’t actually mad at me for this?” he says, phrasing it as a question rather than a definite statement. “Because I can text her right now and tell her I was just joking, we were drunk and having fun, I wasn’t trying to upset yo-”

Dream cuts him off, finally swivelling his chair back in George’s direction when he decides he’s tormented him enough. He sighs dramatically. “No, it’s fine, George. I really don’t mind, I’m not mad at you.” He lets a slight grin creep across his face, trying to hold back the bubbling laughter he knows will inevitably force its way out of his mouth.

George drops his expression of concern immediately. “So I can tell her to expect me home for Christmas this year?” he deadpans, leaning back onto his hands and looking Dream dead in the eyes.

Of course George saw through Dream’s bullshit. He’d known him for years, messing with George had become increasingly difficult. Of _course_.

Dream can feel George watching him as he splutters for a moment, feeling a warm light creep its way up his neck and onto his face. He tries (and fails, miserably) to quickly replace the look on his face with a look of indignity as he sits up straighter in his chair. “George, just because you told my mother we’re dating doesn’t mean we actually _are_ ,” he says with a scowl. What he feels is a very obviously forced scowl, but a scowl nonetheless. 

He’d say he’s doing pretty well at maintaining his composure.

George snickers. “Technically this is your fault. You’d be fine right now if you weren’t complete shit at Jenga. It’s your fault I got your mum’s number in the first place.” 

“Yeah, but I gave you her number as a _joke_ , George. On a dare? You’re the one who decided it was a good idea to tell her you were my boyfriend.”

“I’m just surprised she believed me. I mean, she welcomed me to the family and then said something about apple and pear soup for dinner? You can’t blame me, I thought she was joking until she called us, I didn’t really know how to deny it at that point.”

Dream shakes his head. He’s quiet for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. As much as he loves to mess with George, he didn’t feel like risking his dignity to do so was anywhere remotely close to being worth it. Before he’s able to tell George to grow up and tell his poor mother that he doesn’t actually have a boyfriend, he opens his mouth and beats him to it. 

“Dream, do you want to make a bet?”

The smug look on George’s face and the cocky undertones in his voice were enough to tell Dream that no, he definitely did not want to make a bet, but George was looking up at him and he was smiling and he still looked half asleep and _fuck_. How could he say no? 

He let out a long breath before speaking, smiling softly at George. “Sure, why not. What’s the bet?” 

“I bet you a month’s worth of compsci homework and a muffin that you can’t make it through all two weeks of winter break without screwing up and telling your mum the truth.”

“ _What_?" he bursts out, taking a second to comprehend what George just said. "No way, I have to go home for winter break, you’re so stupid.” 

“Yeah, but you’re going to do it anyway.”

That's probably the stupidest thing Dream had ever heard come out of George’s mouth, and that was saying a lot. George came up with stupid ideas all the time, always voicing them to Dream and never failing to rope him into them. He’d have hoped that this wouldn’t be one of those times, but saying no to his best friend had proven to be an unnecessarily hard thing to do. 

So, of course, Dream finds himself looking George dead in the face yet again, holding his hand out to shake on it. 

“Deal,” he grumbles, but he can feel the grin tugging on his face, and he knows George can see it too. Pulling his hand away just before George reaches to grab it, he tilts his head, sticking his tongue between his teeth. “ _But_ , only if it’s a chocolate chip muffin.” 

George rolls his eyes, but the goofy smile is still on his face as he reluctantly pushes himself up and reaches down to grab his backpack. “Alright, Dream. A chocolate chip muffin. You’re such an idiot.”

He reaches for the doorknob, wincing at the bright fluorescent lights in the hallway before stepping out with a smile and a small wave and heading off to his class, leaving Dream to wallow in immediate regret. 

\---

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!”

George groans, slowly stirring and lifting a hand up to rub his eyes. He sits up, scowling at Dream, who’d tugged his blankets off and moved to stand in the doorway.

“You’re so stupid, be quieter, what time even is it,” he mumbles, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and stumbling as he slowly stands. 

Dream smiles. He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, ignoring George’s question. “George, you’re the one who came up with this dumbass fake dating idea in the first place. You want to be stuck doing my homework for a month? Be my guest.”

George shoots him a look, but goes about getting ready nonetheless, grumbling as he makes his way to the closet and grasps for the first shirt he sees.

Dream jolts as Sapnap barrels into his shoulder as he fails to dodge around him to grab his bag and head back downstairs. 

“Guys, it’s 6:47, get your asses in the car. God, it’s like I’m the only one who cares about this trip,” Sapnap half-jokes from halfway down the stairwell, earning a few annoyed hushes from other tired students on his way down. 

Shaking his head, Dream grabs George’s arm when he sees George moving to search for food in the minifridge, dragging him out the door and ignoring his whining protests as he struggles to shoulder both of their bags and scoop up their pillows.

“George, we’re already late, we can just get food from Sonic on the way, I promise, and you can sleep in the car, but we have to go now if we wanna make it there on time.”

\---

“Dream, get off me, what are you doing, you’re crushing my legs-”

Dream scoffs. He’s been reaching over George’s lap and struggling to single-handedly unzip his duffle bag for what feels like an hour (it’s actually been three minutes, and he’s painfully aware of that), and he’s about had enough. They’ve been driving for over two hours and he just wants to snuggle up with his hoodie and pillow and go the hell to sleep. Unfortunately, just like everything else in his life, it’s proving to be _unnecessarily_ hard. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, George, is this inconveniencing you?” he asks, and he hopes the sarcasm is as evident in his tired voice as he’s trying to make it. “You know, this sure would go a lot faster if you would just reach down and unzip the goddamn bag for me.” 

Sapnap sighs from the front seat. He adjusts the mirror to look at Dream and George and shakes his head, glancing back and forth between his friends and the road.

“Can’t you two get along for five minutes? George, just help him out, man. He’s driving next and I don’t want to put my life in the hands of a cranky sleep deprived Florida man,” he scolds, and although he’s joking, neither Dream or George protest. Dream isn’t exactly known to be the greatest driver, and he doesn’t quite trust himself behind the wheel in this state, either.

George swats Dream’s hand away and unzips his bag, pulling out an old (and honestly foul-smelling) football hoodie. He tosses it across the seat at Dream without looking, not bothering to replace the stray socks that had come out with it before yanking the zipper back into place. 

Dream picks the hoodie up gratefully and tugs it over his head. He considers thanking George but the other man is already curling back into himself on the other side of the car, out cold, and he knows he’ll be screwed if he’s the cause of George being woken up. 

Sighing, he readjusts his blanket and repositions the pillow behind his head, careful to avoid letting his legs brush George’s when he stretches out across the seat and tries to settle in for a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how are we feeling. i DO take constructive criticism. im aware this chapter was pretty short n boring i really just wanted to establish the plot and still be able to separate everything else into the other chapters, & im happy with it nonetheless. i have 2 more chapters written i think? i honestly doubt very many people are going to read this fic but i appreciate all of you who do! see y'all in the next chapter? [:


	2. Dream is a Pissbaby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i meant to post this chapter a couple days ago (i try to keep a weekly upload schedule) but i ended up being weirdly busy & didn't get a chance to, sorry about that! but i'm alive and back and we have a significantly longer chapter this time [:

“We have officially arrived! Casa de- what the fuck, Sapnap?” Dream stops midway through brandishing his arms dramatically in the direction of his childhood home when he feels a crumpled up McDonald’s bag hit the back of his head. 

They’d stopped about an hour ago and spent what Sapnap had described as “a fortune worthy of Mike Zuckerburg himself” on chicken nuggets and milkshakes, and Sapnap had taken to bitterly tossing the garbage at their heads when George had tried to interject with an “it’s Mark, not Mike. God, Snapmap, I knew your weiner was built like a tic tac, but I didn’t know your brain was too.”

He turns around to see Sapnap shrug and swing open the car door with a proclamation that he isn’t helping either of them bring their shit inside. Dream sighs and opens his own door, stepping out of the car and stretching his back dramatically before opening the door to the backseat and leaning in to wake George up. 

He gently shakes George’s shoulder with a soft “Wake up, George, we’re here.” George stirs, groaning as he tries to violently rub the sleepiness out of his eyes. Verbally cursing whatever gods were cruel enough to invent sleep, he half leans, half flops over the length of the backseat to pull both his and Dream’s bags towards the door. 

Dream smiles gratefully and slings both bags over his shoulder as he waits patiently for George to hop out and walk ahead of him. They make their way up the stone path and stop before the patio steps. Dream turns to George, partially to reassure himself that the other man is conscious enough to hold a conversation and partially to make eye contact with him as he speaks. 

“Okay, remember, my mom thinks we’re dating and we have to keep up that image so oh, my god, I’m just now realizing we forgot to come up with a backstory,” Dream says, mentally face palming at his lack of planning. 

George, on the other hand, just shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter. We’ll just tell your mum how we actually met, and fog up the details a bit to make it more...” He trails off for a moment, voice faltering slightly before continuing. “I don’t know, romantic or whatever.” 

“Right, and it would be that simple, if I hadn’t forgotten to tell you that it’s not just my mom. We’re actually gonna have a lot of family around for the holidays, so the pressure’s kind of on to keep this going. Call me crazy, but I’d prefer not to become the family embarrassment,” Dream admits, scratching at the back of his neck and readjusting the straps on his shoulder.

George somehow just seems completely unworried, simply turning on his heel with an “it’ll be fine, it’s not that big of a deal, you big baby.” He swings around the banister of the patio stairs and bounds up the steps to catch up with Sapnap.

Dream watches him with an incredulous look, wondering how he could be so casual about this, and eventually follows him. When they reach the door, he leans over and holds down the doorbell, listening to the familiar sound ring out. He hears shuffling and a quiet thud from the entrance hallway, and the front door swings open. 

The three boys are immediately greeted by the overwhelming scent of something burning wafting out of the house. Dream’s mom is already hurrying back down the hallway and into the kitchen, calling out behind her for Dream to show the other two inside. 

When they make their way through the entryway, they’re bombarded by bright red and green everywhere. Dream’s mother had always been the type to go all out for any and all holidays, and Dream couldn’t recall a holiday when the house wasn’t decked out in enough decorations to fill the White House itself. Sapnap snorts at the nativity scene, in which baby Jesus was painted to look like Minecraft Steve- Drista’s idea, while George lightly swats at his shoulder, and Dream thinks he can almost hear him hiss “don’t be _rude_ , Sapnap. That’s Jesus.” 

Dream leads the way into the living room and motions for the other two boys to sit on the couch. “Make yourselves at home, I’ll be back in a minute. I just want to talk to my mom really quick,” he says, grabbing the remote and tossing it to Sapnap. 

He watches with a smile as Sapnap catches the remote and immediately flops onto the couch with a content sigh, George hesitantly following soon after. The two dissolve into meaningless bickering over the TV and Dream turns around, sliding the kitchen door open and walking inside. 

“Jesus Christ, Mom, what-” he stops short, frantically waving a hand in front of his face and doubling over, hands on his knees as he coughs. When he recovers, he reaches up to help his mom fan away the smoke in the kitchen before it can set off the smoke detectors. 

Once the smoke has finally cleared, Dream turns to his mom with a questioning look. 

“So... I burnt the cookies,” she sighs. 

Chuckling, Dream crosses the small kitchen floor to envelop her in a hug, mumbling late greetings. He pulls back and tosses the rag he’d been using onto the counter behind him, saying, “Did you? I hadn’t noticed.”

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes with a smile when his mom fakes offense. “It’s fine, Mom, I can wrangle George and Sap to help me bake a fresh batch.” 

“Oh, George, he’s your new boyfriend, isn’t he? Sorry I didn’t get a chance to say hello properly when you boys got here,” she says, her face apologetic.

Dream gives a small shake of his head, waving a dismissive hand as he speaks. “No worries, seriously. You guys’ll have plenty of time to get to know him. But don’t you think you should maybe, uh, take a nap for now? Before the kids get here?”

“Oh, honey, I’d love to, believe me, but I promised I’d have sweets and if I don’t deliver, we’re gonna have two hysterical kids underfoot.”

Dream lets out a light laugh, saying, “No, really, I bet Sapnap and George’d be happy to help. We’ll get everything done, and you rest for a couple hours.”

His mom begins to protest, saying that she’d be glad to let them relax after their long drive, but Dream just shakes his head, exhasperated. “Honestly, Mom. It’ll be fun, and we can chill when we’re done. I know the holidays are stressful around here, just get some rest.” 

She hesitates for a moment, then flashes a grateful smile at Dream and starts to make her way back past the living room and into the hallway. Pausing before she disappears from sight, she says, “Thank you, hon. Just try not to make too much of a mess?”

Dream nods and shoos her away. Holidays were always hectic in his family, but with the stress and the messiness always came a warm feeling of comfort. It was chaotic, but it was familiar. To Dream, they have their routines, and as long as they do them together it doesn’t matter whether it’s smooth sailing or rough seas; it meant a lot to him that he got to show his best friends one of the most important parts of his life. Smiling to himself at the thought, he scrapes the burnt cookies into the trashcan before going into the living room to get George and Sapnap.

“Hey, I promised my mom I’d bake a fresh batch of Christmas cookies before the fam gets here, you guys wanna help?”

“Depends. Are we allowed to eat them? Because if not, then no,” Sapnap pipes up from between two pillows. 

“Probably? But you can definitely decorate them, if you want.”

That seems to be enough for Sapnap, who pushes himself up with a dramatic groan and shuffles into the kitchen. 

George, however, is still sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix. “I’d rather not. I’m not really good at decorating cookies and after being woken up at the asscrack of dawn, I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with you and Sapnap together in a kitchen,” he says without bothering to look back at Dream.

Dream frowns and flings himself over the back of the couch, resting his chin on George’s shoulder. “George, c’mon, you’re my boyfriend. You’re supposed to help me with stuff like this,” he pouts, looking up at George through his lashes. 

“Fake boyfriend. I’m not obligated to do anything, do your own chores.” 

“It’s not a _chore_ , it’s cookies,” he whines, moving his head back and straightening up. “You can watch whatever you want while we do it, and I’ll let you lick the spoon after, _please_ , George?” 

Letting out a long sigh, George switches the TV off and gets up to walk to the kitchen without a word. Taking that as a yes, Dream follows behind him and when they walk in, Sapnap’s already sorted all of the ingredients onto the counter and has started mixing the dry ingredients together. He sets the open bag of flour down next to the bowl and turns back to keep mixing, flour flying out of the bowl and coating the counter.

“What are you trying to do, speedrun Christmas cookies?” Dream snorts. 

Sapnap makes a face at him and throws a small handful of flour in his direction with a muttered “ _shut up._ ” 

Dream’s jaw drops open in surprise. Before he can retaliate, he hears giggling behind him and spins around to glare at his other friend. George, who had been bent over by the counter laughing, suddenly straightens up when he’s hit in the face with a cloud of flour, making him cough and gag.

“Oh my God, Dream, what the hell?” George yells, violently shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of the flour. 

Chuckling, Dream walks over and ruffles his hand through George’s hair, coughing when he’s met with flour falling out of his hair and into Dream’s face. “That’s- oh, God, hang on- that’s what you get for laughing at my misfortune. Jesus, George, you’re a terrible boyfriend.” 

“You’re right, I’m the worst, we should just break up,” he jokes dryly, ducking away and finally helping Sapnap make the cookie dough. 

“Oh, come on now, don’t be like that. We can work this out!” Dream snickers, following behind George, who bats his hand away when he tries to sling it around his shoulder and throws a spoon at him, telling him to help.

\---

An hour and a few major messes later, they’ve finally managed to bake a successful batch of cookies. 

"Look, guys, my reindeer cookie is dead. You can see his ribs and stuff, I made 'em out of icing, Dream, look!"

Dream moves to lean over Sapnap's shoulder, pausing in the middle of wiping crumbs off his hands when he sees Sapnap's cookies. 

"Sap, that is so _not_ funny," he wheezes. 

"Dream, I so _did not_ ask." 

This makes Dream wheeze harder, hitting his hand on the counter as he tries to regain his composure. After a bit, he manages to calm down and looks over to George, whose face is scrunched in concentration as he pipes icing onto his cookies.

“And what are _you_ making, George? Lemme see!” 

Dream narrowly avoids the elbow jab aimed at his ribs and peers around George to look at his decorated cookies. His eyes widen as he sees his friend’s neatly decorated Christmas cookies, glancing at him and smacking his shoulder.

“I thought you said you sucked at decorating cookies!” 

Ignoring Dream’s exclamation, George moves across the kitchen to pick up one of Sapnap’s cookies and take a bite out of it. “Very creative, Hannibal Lecter. Master decorating skills.” 

Sapnap’s sarcastic response is cut off by the doorbell. Excitedly, Dream takes off around the corner to get the door, forgetting about his slippery socks and knocking a whisk off the counter in the process. George calls out behind him, irritated, but Dream waves it off and scrambles to unlock the door, hearing his mom scramble out behind him to greet everyone. 

As soon as he opens the door, Dream is bombarded by excited voices and small hands. He hastily steps aside to avoid his cousin darting past his legs, and glances behind him to see George making his way out of the kitchen, eyes wide at the sight of all the new people. 

Dream smiles and gestures with his head for George to come and stand next to him, and he does, shrinking into Dream’s side and holding onto his sweater sleeve. Dream raises a subtle eyebrow at him, amused, and George shoots him a look that says it’s not the time for a joke. 

Nodding, Dream turns back to the door, shutting and locking it once everyone’s made their way inside. The family exchanges hugs and greetings, Dream scooping up his two younger cousins into a bear hug. 

Once his mom’s finally managed to wrangle the kids into the kitchen with the promise of cookies, it calms down and Dream is able to properly greet his aunts, who are both decked out in their, very opposite, holiday attire. 

“Who’s this?” his aunt asks with a smile, gesturing to George. Dream’s face lights up even more as he snakes an arm around George’s waist, pulling him into his side playfully.

“This is George! He’s my boyfriend, he’s staying with us for Christmas. George, meet Sofie and Kay. They’re my aunts.” He looks away from George, pausing to glance around the room, then continues. “Sapnap’s here too, but I have no idea where he went.”

His other aunt, Kay, reaches up to jokingly pinch his cheek. “Aw, look at you, all grown up and with a love life of your own. Well, you two’ll have to tell us all about that later! Speaking of which, we’re still on for dinner, yeah?” 

George looks up at Dream, confusion painted clearly on his face. He doesn’t say anything, but Dream can tell he wants to complain about having to go out again with no warning.

Dream loosens his grip on George, dropping his hand, but George stays close to his side. “Yeah, definitely. It’s been a long day, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you guys,” he says, sneaking a look at George, silently pleading with him to keep going a little bit longer. 

Sofie smiles and takes Kay’s hand, gently tugging her backward and starting towards the hallway. “You boys had better get ready to go, then; it’s getting late and I’m sure you’re both eager to get to bed,” she says before heading off to the guest bedroom, presumably to unpack and freshen up after the drive. 

As soon as they’re gone, George turns to face Dream and rolls his eyes. “I thought we were gonna get to sleep, do we really have to go out to dinner?” 

“Oh, come on, it’ll be nice! And it’s only, like, 7 o’ clock, you literal baby, I think you’ll survive,” Dream deadpans.

When George doesn’t answer, only staring blankly at Dream, the latter sighs. As much as he wants to hate George’s flair for the dramatic, he always finds himself doing his best to accommodate him, even when he doesn’t seriously need it. He’d be lying if he said it doesn’t get on his nerves from time to time, but he wouldn’t dare change it. 

“If you can just make it through one dinner I promise we can watch whatever you want when we study tomorrow and I won’t complain.”

With a wide grin, George triumphantly turns to walk through the hallway, and makes it halfway down before realizing he has no idea where he’s going. Dream chuckles and watches George stubbornly stop and stand in the middle of the hall, unmoving. 

“George, if you need help finding my room, you can just say it,” he laughs. George huffs and nods without turning around. 

Swinging the door open with a grand sweep of his arms, Dream falters halfway through when he sees his old bedroom. Specifically, the lonely twin bed sitting in the corner of it. 

“Oh, shit. I forgot about that.” 

Hearing a sudden outburst of laughter behind him, he spins to see Sapnap clutching his sides and leaning against the wall.

“Dude, you and George have to share a bed? That’s gonna be so hot- temperature-wise, don’t laugh- oh, my God, it must suck to be you guys!” 

“Oh, come on, it’s not _that_ bad, we have air conditioning,” Dream hesitates, hoping it isn’t obvious in his voice that he’s uncertain himself. 

“No way, I know you wish you were me. I have a room _all_ to myself, this week is gonna be so fun. Sayanora, sweatys.” Sapnap shuffles off gleefully, leaving Dream and George to get ready. 

“Wait, can’t you just ask your mum for, like, an air mattress or something? Why do we have to share the bed?” George asks while he snaps open his suitcase and rummages through, looking for something at least semi-nice to wear. Dream follows suit as he opens his mouth to answer. 

“Well, I mean, we’re dating, right? And couples usually sleep together? I think it’ll look weird if we don’t want to share a bed. I can sleep on the floor, but my family thinks we’re comfortable with each other.”

“We _are_ comfortable with each other, we’re best friends,” George says, finally deciding on a clean pair of jeans and a shirt with a jacket that has a small smiley face drawn on it.

Dream raises his voice to reach George as the latter closes himself in the bathroom connected to Dream’s bedroom to change. “You know what I mean. We’ll figure it out, don’t worry about it. And giving up is always an option, George, if it’s too much for you you can just come clean and get your own bed,” he shouts with a grin, pulling on a clean shirt and fixing his hair before messily tossing his unzipped suitcase in the corner and waiting for George.

“You’re so annoying, is that your only ultimatum? I don’t care, I was just _wondering_.” George walks out and straight past Dream without a second glance. Calling for him to wait up, Dream speedwalks after him and out to the car where his aunts are waiting. 

\---

“Table for four, please?” 

“Of course. Follow me, right this way.” 

The waitress leads the group to a table, seating them and excusing herself with a smile after promising to be back soon to take their orders. Once they’ve sat down, everyone settles into friendly conversation. 

“So, what’s the story?” Sofie asks, smiling expectantly at the two boys sitting across from her and Kay. 

Dream looks up from his menu with a hum. “Story? What story?” 

Kay leans over to playfully smack him on the head with her menu. “She means how did you two meet, dummy.” 

“Oh! Oh, well, we, uh...Georgie, why don’t you tell them?” he deflects, lightly kicking what he hopes is George’s leg under the table. George scrunches his nose with a small smile at the name, but tells the story as enthusiastically as he can manage.

“Oh, okay. Well, Dream is my roommate, so that’s technically how we met in the first place. He was honestly really annoying at first- _ow_ , Dream, stop kicking me- but we started studying together for compsci class and found out we actually have a lot of similar interests. We started hanging out more and he spent a whole week joking about being my valentine, but then we somehow ended up actually going on a Valentine’s day date and got together,” George finishes, fidgeting with a napkin.

“That’s sweet. It must be nice to live with your boyfriend, yeah?” Kay raises her eyebrows, looking at Dream.

Dream shrugs, nodding noncommittally. “It is, usually. He’s pretty annoying too. He talks in his sleep and hogs literally everything.” 

That wasn’t completely untrue, Dream had heard George talking in his sleep before, and there had been nights where his loud nonsense had kept him up until early hours of the morning. He doesn’t actually mind that much, though he’d never let George know that. 

George scoffs and rolls his eyes. “If it’s so annoying, sleep in your own bed. Problem solved,” he jokes. 

Dream feigns hurt, clutching at his chest above his heart. He leans over and takes George’s hand dramatically in his own, holding it to his chest as he talks. “Oh, George, I wouldn’t dream of it. I still love you-” he pauses, abruptly dropping his hand before turning away again. “-I just don’t love your sleep talking.” 

George flushes as he moves his hand back to his menu, shaking his head instead of answering.

The group falls into easy conversation, talking about why George chose college in America, and telling him enthusiastically about the rest of their family, only pausing to order when the waitress comes back. 

At one point, Dream’s “coming out” story- though he likes to think of it as more of a mortifying “I got outed in the worst way possible” story- gets brought up, and his fork clatters against his plate as he frantically waves his hands, choking on his food in his haste to shut Sofie up before she can get too far into the story. 

“No, I’m being deadly serious. His mom calls it the pissbaby story and it is honest to god the best thing you’ll ever-” 

“ _Sofie_ , Sofie, please, if you love me, you won’t tell George what happened. I am begging you,” Dream pleadingly half-yells and quiets down sheepishly when George gives him a pointed look that says “ _there are other people in this restaurant, dipshit._ ” 

“No. George, you have to hear this. This one morning at the beginning of summer break in highschool, his mom walked into his room to drop off a load of clean laundry, right? And when she walks in, she sees Dream just standing there, next to his bed, and he’s-” 

Dream quickly reaches across the table, clamping a hand over her mouth. George watches with an amused look, clearly curious now about whatever it was that Dream didn’t want to tell him. “Okay, seriously, Sofie, _please_. That’s really not something George needs to know and it’s a gross topic to talk about while we’re eating and I-” he says desperately, cut off by Sofie batting his hand away and rolling her eyes. 

“Okay, drama queen. You’re no fun. It looks like everyone’s finished eating, are you guys ready to get going?” 

Dream nods, his face burning, standing up. He avoids George’s gaze as he makes his way to the exit, his head down and eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor. He can feel George staring at the back of his head, and he refuses to look up at him. However, George speeds up to walk next to him and bumps his shoulder with his own, looking up at him and moving his head around in an attempt to make it into Dream’s field of vision.

“So-” 

“No,” Dream firmly states, hearing the smirk in George’s voice and absolutely not wanting to deal with his dumbass remarks. They all make their way out to the car silently and Dream spends the entire car ride home trying to calm his flushed face. 

\---

Opening the front door and seeing Sapnap draped over the couch, Dream raises an eyebrow and walks over, hitting his socked foot with the back of his hand to get his attention. 

"Sap, what're you doing on the couch?" 

Sapnap furrows his brow and flips over, burying his face in the couch cushion. "Your dumbass cousins are sleeping in my guest room," he grumbles, his voice muffled. 

Dream bursts out laughing before he can help it, and George frantically tries to quiet him down between his strained wheezes and teasing exclamations before he wakes anyone up, leading him back to the bedroom and closing the door behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i said "slow burn" i meant it btw [: i also didn't originally plan to end this chapter so abruptly but i ended up chopping it up and splitting it into the next chapter bc it was too long with the last bit that i had written so if it's weird that's why LMAO  
> thank you for reading, remember to take care of yourself, stay hydrated and safe [:


	3. Maybe Having a Cute Fake Boyfriend Isn't That Bad After All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this entire chapter in the boston market drive thru because they were short staffed & it took over two hours to get my food. i hope the employee who gave me a free brownie when i told her what i was writing is doing okay right now

“George, I swear to fucking God, if you don’t move your ass over right this second I am going to punt you out of this goddamn bed. Get your bony knee out of my ass.” 

George loudly groans into his pillow. “If my _boniness_ bothers you so much why don’t you just sleep on the floor like you said you were going to?” 

“You’re the one who suggested I sleep in the bed, dipshit! You were all like ‘it’s more comfortable, I’m fine with it, just don’t be a blanket hog, bla bla bla!’ And now you’re the one with over half the blanket and almost all of the surface space, I haven’t done shit wrong!” 

“I’m a guest. I can do what I want, I have a boyfriend pass. You have to let me because you love me,” George says smugly.

Feeling his last nerve start to fray, Dream gathers his pillow and an extra blanket and gets out of bed, laying them out on the floor next to it as he speaks. “I do not love you, and you’re an insufferable brat. Goodnight, George.” 

George huffs, reaching over to click off the light. “Whatever, goodnight,” he mutters, offering Dream a vaguely apologetic smile before turning it off.

Dream tosses and turns, seconds turning into minutes, unable to fall asleep. The floor isn’t exactly ideal and he’s never in his life detested their uncarpeted floors more than he does now. He’d die before he admitted defeat to George, though, so he’ll just suffer through it until morning. It’s really not even that bad, and he manages to find a comfortable position and begins finally drifting off to sleep after a few minutes.

“Hey, Dream, are you-”

He was ready to fucking kill this moron.

“No, I am not awake. Go the hell to sleep and leave me alone, it’s the middle of the night,” Dream says bluntly, pulling part of his pillow over his head to cover his ears.

“But I can’t sleep.”

Dream silently screams into his pillow before he sits up, rubbing the bleariness out of his eyes and looking tiredly up at him. “Okay, George, what do you expect me to do about that? Tell you a bedtime story?”

George’s eyes light up at that and Dream can practically see the gears turning in his head, even in the darkness of the room. “You know what? A bedtime story sounds great. There’s this one story I’d actually _love_ to hear.” 

Dream raises his eyebrows, tiredness momentarily forgotten, not having expected George to take what he said seriously. “What story?” he asks.

“The pissbaby story,” George says, leaning over the edge of the bed with a grin. 

Immediately, Dream flops back down onto his pillow and throws his blanket over his head. “Goodnight, George, have a great night, I’ll see you in the morning, great talk.” 

“Come on, it can’t be that bad, you’re so dramatic. What’d you do, piss the bed?”

When Dream stays silent, George looks down at him. “Wait, you didn’t actually-” 

“George, I genuinely wish that I _had_ just pissed the bed. No, it was a lot worse, and you’re never going to hear about it so please just go to sleep because it’s midnight and I’m so tired.” 

George is silent for a short while, and Dream starts to think that maybe he actually listened and went to sleep, but then the other boy pipes up again from the bed and Dream wants to bang his head against the dresser. 

“What if I tell you an embarrassing story? Then we’ll be even.” 

Fully ready to deny him again, Dream hesitates when he hears what he said. That doesn’t actually sound like the worst idea, which is surprising because it had come from George.

“Okay, that’s... not actually a horrible idea,” he says slowly, pulling the blanket off his head and sitting back up. 

George smiles. “Yes, I knew that’d work. D-”

“But,” Dream interrupts, raising a finger. “It has to be a story that genuinely still embarrases you. Like, a ‘keeps you up at night thinking about it’ story.”

George quickly nods, and Dream sighs, pulling his legs in towards himself and leaning against the wall behind him. “You start.”

“I already know what my story is. So, uh, in secondary school- highschool, for you, I think?- I used to go to this coffee shop down the road from my school? And there was this girl who worked there. Maia. I was there, like, every day so I’d see her all the time and she always remembered my order. I kind of had a crush on her, I guess. Before the end of my last year I decided to ask her out, and one of my friends suggested that I do some corny pickup line. It was something really stupid like ‘I don’t see your number on the specials menu, could I get it anyway?’ Long story short, it turns out she was a lesbian and she laughed in my face because she hadn’t thought I was that stupid.” 

Dream snickers, looking down and shaking his head. “Okay, but that’s not even that bad. You couldn’t have even known-”

“She wore a pride flag pin on her apron.”

“George, you’re an idiot.”

George grabs his pillow and swings it at Dream’s face, missing and hitting the wall instead when he ducks. With a small huff, he settles for landing a soft slap on the back of Dream’s head and resituates himself in the bed. “Whatever, it’s your turn, I kept my end of the bargain.” 

“Technically I didn’t make any _promises_ -”

“ _Dream._ ”

Dream raises his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Um, okay, so. Pissbaby story. So, senior year was kind of when I figured out that I liked guys, so I spent a lot of that year kind of just, like, experimenting. Well, this one time I had a guy over who ended up staying the night- my mom had no clue he was here- and we both fell asleep in my bed.” Dream pauses, running a hand down his face and loudly sighing before continuing on.

“I woke up at, like, five in the morning and I somehow managed to go to the bathroom in my dream and piss all over the bed. That this poor guy was sleeping in. Obviously I didn’t want to wake him up and be like, ‘hey, I just pissed the bed, would you mind getting up so I can clean it?’ so instead I just cleaned it up without saying a single thing to him and I was like great, I’ll just act like this never happened. But then right when I was standing there getting ready to just go back to sleep, my _mom_ opened the door trying to be all quiet so she could drop a basket of laundry off and she saw me standing there and she didn’t say anything for a minute, she just looked really confused. She started, like, looking from me to the guy in my bed and then to the pile of sheets in the corner and the moment I saw the recognition in her eyes was the worst moment of my life. Yeah, so, long story short I was like ‘surprise, I’m bi’ and ever since that moment I’ve had to live with the fact that I didn’t have a normal coming out moment. I pissed the bed and my mom found me with another man. The end.” 

George stares blankly down at him, blinking, and slowly asks, "Was it this bed?" 

Dream nods, his brow furrowed, and before he can say a word, George suddenly stands up and moves to sit down next to him on the floor.

"You- what are you doing?" 

"I'm not sleeping in your piss bed. Scooch over, the floor looks really comfortable all of a sudden," George says matter-of-factly, shuffling his way onto Dream's makeshift bed. 

"You're such an idiot. My bed is not filled with piss, you're so annoying. You think I haven't changed the sheets in the past two years?" 

“Well, Dream, I wouldn’t put it past you, since apparently you pissed in it at the young and completely normal age of 18." 

"Oh my- okay, George, must you always be so dramatic? Can we please just go to sleep like normal people and forget this ever happened?” Dream pleads in a last-ditch effort to get a few hours of rest.

Trying and failing to hide his smile, George gets up off the floor and crawls back up onto the bed, offering a hand down to Dream. “Yes, I must, but you’re right, I actually am tired now. You should probably sleep in the bed though. The floor’ll give you back problems, it’s hard as hell.”

Dream takes his outstretched hand with a chuckle, hoisting himself up onto the bed with a groan and settling down into the space between George and the wall under the soft comforter. “Probably for the best. Knowing you, you would’ve rolled off the bed at some point and crushed me anyway,” he mumbles, closing his eyes.

He hears a soft laugh from George in acknowledgement, and eventually drifts off to sleep, careful to avoid brushing against the other man when he changes positions in feeble attempts to get more comfortable.

\---

Dream's been awake for ten minutes, and he hasn't moved a single time since he opened his eyes, and he's not really sure why.

He finds himself staring at the way George's hair sticks up in fluffy tufts around his head from being smooshed between his head and the pillow all night; the completely peaceful look on his face that he doesn't get to see often. The earlier he gets out of bed, the better chance he has at getting a shower before the hot water runs out, but he can't manage to tear himself away from the warmth that George's body radiates underneath the comforter. 

He finally lifts himself up onto one elbow and steals one more glance at George, who starts to gently stir. This wasn't a bad thing to wake up to, really. He could see himself-

Oh, fuck. Oh shit, mother of Christ, that was why.

Dream launches himself out of bed, aggressively rubbing at his eyes and telling himself that it's normal to have stupid soft thoughts about your fake boyfriend. The placebo effect, or whatever. 

Yeah, that makes sense, he thinks as he hastily brushes his teeth and takes a quick shower. He's just really committing to the role of George's boyfriend. Being this amazing of an actor doesn’t come without its downsides, after all.

When he walks out of the bathroom, stretching his arms out above his head with a tired groan, his eyes immediately fall on George, who’s just beginning to wake up. 

He watches the way George shuffles across the floor of the small room, stifling a yawn with his hand and cursing softly when he drops a pair of sweatpants, and Dream’s face softens, a gentle smile on his face as he walks over and pokes his cheek playfully.

“You excited for an eventful day of studying and leisure?” he teases, scooping up the sweatpants George dropped and handing them to him with a smile. 

George takes the pants with a small snort and steps around Dream to take his turn in the bathroom. “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to losing my mind over a string of code. It’s my ideal way to spend a Saturday.”

Dream chuckles to himself, leaving the room and trying to rub the last traces of sleep from his eyes before he gets out to the kitchen. 

“Morning, Sapnap, You look like shit. Didn’t get much sleep last night?” 

Sapnap, who’d been sitting on the counter and staring blankly at the toaster, knocks his head against the fridge behind him. “Ha ha, very funny. No, Dream, I did not get much sleep last night, no thanks to your stupid sister. I could hear her blasting Harry Styles through the wall at three in the morning.” 

“ _Hey_ , I’m not stupid. You’re bullying a minor, Sapnap, did you know that?” Drista yells from the living room, brandishing her spoon and looking pointedly over the couch at Sapnap. 

He scoffs, turning back to the toaster and yelping when he burns his fingers on the hot bagel he’d grabbed too hastily. 

“Can you put a couple more bagels in for me and George? He’s showering right now but I think he’ll be out in a minute and I’m starving,” Dream asks Sapnap, who nods.

“Well, hello to you too, Dream. I’m really glad you decided to put in the effort to say hi to your dear sister, it sure does mean a lot.” 

Rolling his eyes, Dream opens the fridge, scanning the shelves before settling on a jug of apple juice. “Sorry, Dris. It’s not my fault you weren’t here when I got home. Where were you, anyway?” 

“What do you mean, _where was I_? On the bus, after school, dumbass,” Drista says through a mouthful of cereal. 

“Gross, stop talking with your mouth full. What were you doing at school?”

She turns over the back of the couch and shoots Dream a dubious look. “Not all of us start winter break as early as you do. Yesterday was my last day.”

“Morning, what are we talking about?” 

Dream turns to see George shuffling into the kitchen, raking a hand through his wet hair and yawning, and finishes pouring two cups of apple juice, handing one to his friend, who accepts it with a grateful hum. “Morning, sleepyhead. Nothing; Sapnap made bagels if you’re hungry.”

With a start, Sapnap hops off the counter. “Shoot, I dozed off, I forgot about the bagels.” He peers into the toaster and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that neither of them had been burnt. With a hiss he pulls them out and tosses them onto a paper plate, handing it to Dream before heading off, flicking Drista on the shoulder as he passes by her.

“Woah, woah, woah, hang on, is this the famous George I’ve heard so much about?” Drista’s suddenly maneuvering her way through the kitchen, setting her bowl down in the sink and looking up at George. 

“Um, yes? You’re Dream’s sister. Drista, right?” George answers as he takes a bagel from Dream and searches for a knife to spread the cream cheese with.

“The one and only. He talks about you all the time, you know. Every time I call him it’s all _oh, George_ did this and _George_ said that. He-”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, thank you, Dris. Thank you so much for that,” Dream interrupts. 

George pauses his search and lifts his chin, looking at Dream with a cheeky grin. “Aw, Dream, how adorable. You talk to your little sister about me?”

Dream loudly scoffs. “I do _not_. She’s lying, I don’t even like you, why would I spend time talking about you, you’re so dumb.” 

“He does. It’s annoying. Ask my mom, she’ll say the same thing.” 

Dream claps a hand over Drista’s mouth and pulls away with a groan when she licks his hand. 

“It’s okay, Dream, we all know you love me. You don’t have to say it. Unfortunately, I just... don’t feel the same,” George jokes, finally finding the silverware drawer and pulling out a butter knife. 

Raising an eyebrow, Dream decides to go along with the bit and moves closer to George, snaking his arms around his waist from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. “Come on, Georgie. Don’t be that way, just say you love me!” 

He feels George tense up under his grip before relaxing again, trying halfheartedly to shake him off. “You wish. Get off, I’m trying to make breakfast.” 

Dream makes a grab for George’s bagel, one arm still on his waist as he takes a bite and tosses it back onto the plate, a triumphant smile on his face. He finally lets go and dodges George’s poorly aimed jabs, jumping behind Drista and grabbing her shoulders.

“I’m not a human shield, Dream, man up and deal with your own problems,” she scolds, shrugging Dream off and making her way out of the kitchen, snatching up his untouched apple juice on the way despite his loud protests. 

With nothing left to protect him, Dream frantically throws his hands up and backs up into the counter. 

“Come on, George. Please. You wouldn’t attack your poor defenseless _boyfriend_ , would you?” 

Cornering him, George smiles, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I don’t know, would I? That does sound like something I’d do.” 

Dream’s eyebrows shoot up and he swallows thickly at the close proximity, suddenly very aware of George’s arms brushing against his own, making the hair on his own stand up.

“Get a room, you two.”

Startled, George jumps back, whirling around to see Kay strolling into the kitchen and making exaggerated gagging noises at them.

“Aw, good morning to you too,” Dream says, grateful for an escape from the increasingly uncomfortable situation. 

Kay shoots a glare at him with no real malice behind it and starts opening and closing cupboards, with seemingly no regard for how loud she’s being. Dream vaguely worries about waking up anyone who was still sleeping, but shrugs it off and goes back to wolfing down his bagel hungrily and stealing sips of George’s apple juice whenever he wasn’t looking, earning a kick to the shin when he gets caught.

After a few minutes of ignoring whatever Kay is doing, Dream’s curiosity gets the best of him and he asks her what she’s looking for. 

Kay groans, shoving a strainer back onto the top shelf with a small jump. “Liam asked for waffles and he refuses to eat frozen waffles because apparently they never cook all the way through, so I’m looking for a waffle iron. I’m starting to doubt that your mom even owns one, though.”

The noise Dream makes comes from deep within his throat and he stifles a laugh with his hand. He reaches over her shoulder and moves a glass pan, revealing a waffle iron on the very back of the shelf. 

“You looked directly at it, like, three times, come on, how’d you miss that?” he chides. 

Kay stares absently for a moment, blinking, then lets out a long sigh. “It’s not my fault your mother thinks filling cupboards is an olympic sport. What are you even doing with twelve different cake pans, anyway? Feeding the Royal Navy?” 

George lets out a snort at that. “Dream, the rest of your family is funny, what happened to you?” he says around a mouthful of food.

“George, I’m hurt. You’d really take her side over mine? Also, ew. Close your mouth, you dork.” Dream pushes George’s chin up and mimics his face when George scrunches his nose in annoyance. 

“I’d take anyone’s side over yours, you’re annoying.” 

“Okay, come on, you know you love me.”

“Sure, I love you, that doesn’t make you automatically less annoying,” George jokes, playfully shoving Dream away from him and finishing the last bite of his bagel.

“Since you two morons apparently don’t have anything better to do than whatever the hell that just was, why don’t you help me out with breakfast?”

Dream looks over his shoulder and sees Kay looking expectantly at him and George, having plugged in the waffle iron and brought out a bowl and a whisk. 

“I’d really rather not,” he sheepishly replies, unable to come up with a decent excuse. 

Sighing, she turns back to the fridge, starting to take out what she needs and nodding. “Yeah, I figured. Well, could you two at least keep an eye on Liam for me later? Your mom wants me and Sofie to go with her to finish up the last of the Christmas shopping. Something about spending time with us? We can take James with us, but Liam won’t be able to sit through hours of wandering Walmart.”

George perks up at that, interest piqued. Before he can agree to anything, Dream cuts him off, shaking his head with a warning glare. “We can’t, we have to _study_ ,” he says, directing the last part at George. 

Kay rolls her eyes. “Don’t you boys have another two weeks of winter break? We’re going up to your grandparents’ house in a couple days anyway and it’s really quiet there. You might as well wait, it might even be better there.”

“But-”

“No, Dream, she’s right,” George interrupts. “We’ll have plenty of time to finish the project literally any other day. What, you don’t want to help your poor aunt out with her kids for one day?”

Dream looks at him incredulously. “Don’t put words in my mouth, I didn’t say _that_. I just thought it’d be better to finish it early but if you really want to babysit a kid all day instead then by all means, let’s do that.”

“Yes, let’s do that. We’ll watch Liam today, Kay, Dream is just being a baby.” 

Kay spares a grateful look in George’s direction. “Thank you, George. With you around, there might still be hope for Dream yet,” she laughs. 

Dream loudly scoffs, pushing away from the counter and starting toward the hallway. “I came here thinking we’d have a good time and I am honestly feeling very attacked right now. Can we at least bring Sapnap along?”

“Dream, why would I care whether you bring Sapnap?” 

“I don’t- you know what, fine, I’m gonna go ask him, let me know when it’s time to go,” he grumbles, dramatically sulking down the hallway as George watches. 

“He’s such an idiot.” 

“He is. You two are cute together.”

George scoffs, looking away to hide the faint blush on his cheeks. “Alright, I should probably go after him. It’s dangerous to leave him alone for too long.”

\---

Going to the mall four days before Christmas probably wasn’t the best idea.

It had been Dream’s idea, and he’d immediately regretted it the second they stepped foot through the doors. It’s overwhelmingly loud, and the group finds themselves having to push through crowds of people just to get into any stores. Liam spends the whole time loudly complaining, whining about his lack of food and overabundance of boredom. 

George ended up having to promise him McDonald’s as soon as they were finished, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief when they finally make it to the front of the line.

“And, um... Liam, buddy, what do you want?” Dream asks, glancing down at him after ordering everyone else’s food.

He stands on his tiptoes, leaning over the counter as he squints his eyes to read the menu. “A hamburger Happy Meal and a McNugget Happy Meal, please?” 

“ _Two_ Happy Meals? That’s too much food, you can’t eat all that.” 

Liam looks up at Dream, pouting. “Yes I can! I’m a growing boy, I need to eat!” 

Raising his eyebrows, Dream gives in, figuring it’s not worth the fight. “Okay, and what he said,” he finishes, once again speaking to the cashier and watching him ring up their order. 

They have to wait a lot longer than Dream would’ve liked to get their food, but after a while the order number is eventually called and the group makes their way to a free table, bickering over who sits where. 

George gives a cry of protest when Dream sets his bags down on the chair next to him in an attempt to block him from sitting there, and Dream laughs as he watches George push them off with mumbled claims of annoyance, being careful not to let anything spill out of the bags nonetheless.

When Sapnap excuses himself, saying he forgot to fill his soda cup, Dream relishes in the brief relief of silence that isn’t actually all that silent, but by this point he’s subconsciously learned to tune out the background noise of overlapping voices and screaming children. 

He passes out everyone’s food, pulling the bag away when he gets to George and laughing at the exasperated look on his face. 

“Dream, give me my food, what is your deal today?” George snaps, grabbing at the bag and rolling his eyes at Dream when he finally releases his grip.

Shrugging, Dream pulls out his own meal and starts unwrapping his food, feeling his stomach growl angrily at him. “Maybe I just like getting a reaction out of you. It’s _funny_ ,” he teases, punctuating his sentence by popping a fry into his mouth.

George scoffs and looks away, and Dream isn’t sure, but he thinks he can see a light blush dusting his cheeks. 

"So... my mom said you guys are boyfriends," Liam casually brings up, talking through a bite of his hamburger and swinging his legs back and forth. 

Dream glances up from his food, amused. "Mhm, we are, that's why he's visiting for Christmas this year. I wanted you guys to meet him," he says as he pops a french fry into his mouth.

"So you guys love each other? Does that mean you do the birds and the bees?"

George chokes, soda shooting out of his mouth, which sends Dream into a laughing fit. 

"The- what do you mean? Where did you hear about that?" George asks him, the pink flush on his cheeks rapidly growing deeper.

Liam shrugs, biting into another chicken nugget. "Damien from school was talking about it during recess- he's a sixth grader- and he wouldn't tell me what it meant so I asked my mom when I got home and she said that the birds and the bees is something two people do when they love each other." 

Dream loses it completely at that. He doubles over, gripping onto the table for dear life as he struggles to catch his breath.

"What the hell did you guys do to Dream? I'm away for two minutes and you've killed the poor man, George, good lord." Sapnap plops down onto his chair, having returned with a soda in one hand and a large stack of napkins in the other. 

George, who'd been hiding his face in his hands and mumbling something about idiots, looks up at Sapnap and frowns. "Language, Sapnap. There are kids present. He just-" 

"We were talking about the birds and the bees," Liam pipes up. 

Sapnap’s gaze snaps over to him, eyes wide. "Oh? Why's that?" 

"Because- because he was like- I said George was my boyfriend and apparently Sofie told Liam that boyfriends 'do the birds and the bees' because they love each other and I almost peed myself and oh my God I'm going to die," Dream manages to get out through painfully stifled laughter and gasps of air.

Sapnap bites back a smile and punches his straw into his soda cup. "Oh my- you two are such idiots. Liam, dude, do you wanna come with me to the Lego store to get away from these weirdos?" he asks, taking a sip, and his face immediately screws upin disappointment. "Wait, what the fu- what the _frick_? This is _Sprite_ , not Coke!" 

Liam excitedly jumps up, his food and previous conversation long forgotten at the mention of the Lego store. He pulls on Sapnap's arm, leading him away as he calls a hurried goodbye over his shoulder to Dream and George and ignores Sapnap's protests and attempts to go back for a refill.

“So, looks like it’s just me and you now, huh?” 

George stares Dream dead in the eyes, his face unamused, and he tosses his empty bag in the garbage as he stands up. “Yes, and I’m absolutely thrilled about it,” he deadpans. 

Throwing his head back in exasperation, Dream follows suit, standing up and throwing his garbage in after George’s. “Okay, okay, message received. If I stop being annoying will you stop being mean?”

“I’m not being _mean_ , I’m responding to your stupidity in a realistic and normal way. That also may be sort of mean. Just a little.” George exhales loudly when Dream gives his best attempt at puppy dog eyes and relents. “Yes, okay, I’ll be nice if you are. I’m going to Macy’s to look for some new sweaters, are you coming with?” 

Dream nods but still stands unmoving, pondering whether it would count as annoying to do what he planned on doing next. 

"We should probably hold hands while we walk. You know, for effect."

George looks at him, eyebrow raised. "But your cousin went off with Sapnap? There's no one around, there's no reason to." 

"Well, yeah, but just in case. You know, for when they come back, it would just make sense," Dream reasons, doing his best to quickly come up with a believable excuse for what he'd just said. 

George scoffs. "No, we'll know when they come back, we don’t need to hold hands. Now come look at sweaters with me like you said you would," he says as he starts towards the other end of the mall.

"But Georgie, my hands are cold. Freezing, even. I might get frostbite and die and I'll only have you to blame." Dream stops walking, slouching his shoulders in defeat.

"Stop calling me that, you weirdo, I hate that. Have you always been this annoying?"

"Have you always been this stubborn? George, please?" 

Sighing, George stops in his tracks and holds out his hand, waiting for Dream to catch up. Dream smiles giddily and takes George's hand in his own, bumping George's shoulder while the latter walks on without looking at him.

They spend a good while wandering around the store before seeing any sweaters, and Dream manages to talk George into buying a matching pair of ugly Christmas sweaters, much to George’s ever increasing annoyance. Finally, George spots a sweater he likes, speeding up and tugging Dream’s hand impatiently behind him. 

“Here, this one, do you see it in blue?” he asks Dream, eyes scanning the rack. 

Dream looks intently for a moment, then sees one. “Yeah, right there,” he says, pointing to what is indeed a blue version of the sweater George had been looking at. 

George steps around the rack, reaching over it with his right hand and grabbing at the hanger instead of just letting go of Dream’s hand and picking up the sweater normally. He finally manages to get it and pulls Dream to the fitting rooms, finally releasing his hand and going in with a promise to be back in a minute.

Dream swipes his hand on the leg of his pants, grossed out and quite frankly embarrassed by the amount of sweat that had managed to accumulate on his palm. He sighs as the dark mark it leaves on his jeans, then snaps his head up as he hears the click of the fitting room door. 

George leans out through the cracked door, just enough for Dream to see the upper half of his body. “Does this sweater look okay?” 

It’s a cable knit sweater, and the dark blue color pairs well with George’s skin and eyes. Dream finds himself staring with his mouth half open, nothing coming out, and forces himself to say something.

“Yeah, it, uh. That sweater looks really good on you,” he stammers out, wincing at the unwelcome crack in his voice and praying to any gods out there that George didn’t notice it.

George smiles widely, ducking back into the room and coming out a minute later with the three sweaters in hand. Walking past Dream, he reaches out to grab his hand again, lacing their fingers together like it’s no big deal, and Dream falters at the casualty of it. 

“Dream? Are you okay? Come on, I want to pay for these so we can get out of here,” George says, giving Dream a concerned glance and pulling him gently after him. 

Dream shakes himself out of his weird stupor and starts following after George again, trying to ignore the nagging thought in the back of his mind. It isn’t something he particularly feels like acknowledging and he’d rather enjoy the rest of his day, so he mentally shakes off the lingering feeling of uncertainty and focuses his energy on bickering with George over who’s paying while the woman at the counter watches them blankly. 

Finally, Dream manages to overpower George’s protests and hands over his credit card just as the two spot Sapnap and Liam bounding toward them. 

“Dude, dude, look at what we found,” Sapnap says excitedly, holding a box towards Dream and George. 

George takes it amusedly while Dream turns back to take his card and the bag of sweaters. Liam bounces up and down excitedly while he watches George read the box, and grins when George finishes with a laugh and a raised eyebrow. “‘Hagrid’s Hut: Buckbeak’s Rescue’? Sapnap, how much did you spend on this?”

Sapnap grimaces, taking the box of Legos back and handing down to Liam as he talks. “Uh, like, sixty dollars, I think. But it’s totally worth it, Karl’ll be so jealous. And also because Legos are superior.” 

He emphasizes his point with a high five to Liam, and they walk off ahead of the group, Sapnap listening while Liam rambles about Harry Potter. 

Dream and George follow after, all of them making their way out to the car and tossing their bags into the backseat.

“They’re such idiots, aren’t they?”

Dream looks over his shoulder at the two in the backseat, still intently talking, and shakes his head. “Yeah, but they’re our idiots,” he says, feeling his own face split into a smile at the sight of George’s and starting the car to drive them home.

\---

When they walk through the front door, Dream calls out to let everyone know they’re back, but gets no response.

“Guess they’re all still out,” he says, and collapses onto the couch after locking the door. George follows suit, dropping down on the opposite side with a groan, and Liam moves to sit on the floor in front of the TV and starts unwrapping his new Lego set. 

“Can we watch one of the Harry Potter movies?” he asks suddenly, and Dream nods. 

“Yeah, sure. I’m not getting up though. There’s a box of movies in the cabinet below the TV if Sap wants to grab it.”

Popping his head around the corner of the kitchen, Sapnap hums. “For sure, no problem. But, only if Dream cuddles with me while we watch,” he jokes, crossing the room and pulling the movies out of the cabinet. 

“Hey, back off, Snapmap. If anyone gets to cuddle with Dream, it’s me, I’m his boyfriend,” George interjects, lifting his head up and playfully kicking at Sapnap’s ankle. 

Sapnap pretends to sulk, settling on the first movie and popping it into the DVD player before sitting on the edge of the couch and sighing loudly.

“It’s okay, Sapnap, you can come build Legos with me. We don’t need Dream,” Liam offers, and Sapnap joins him on the floor with a soft chuckle.

Dream pulls a pillow into his lap and hugs it, settling in and trying to focus on the movie, but a few minutes in he notices George looking back and forth between him and the TV. 

“George? Everything alright?”

George nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just... Could we, actually? Cuddle, I mean. I’m cold and you’re sitting under a vent so it’s probably warmer over there,” he quietly asks, avoiding Dream’s gaze.

Dream moves the pillow out of his lap and opens his arms in a silent invitation, and George crawls into them, leaning back on his chest and relaxing after a moment. Dream settles his chin on George’s head, relishing in the warmth the other boy spreads through his body. Before he knows it, his eyes grow heavy and he doesn’t try to fight off the sleep as it slowly overtakes him, and he dozes off under the steady rhythm of George’s breathing and the low murmur of the TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream.exe has stopped working


	4. It's Not Gay If There's Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! sorry for uploading this slightly later than usual- i left my laptop at home and my phone hates working properly. ive been struggling a bit with writers block lately but overall im happy with how this chapter turned out [:

“Do you think they’re gonna wake up soon? I need the couch cushions and they’re blocking the way.”

“ _Shh_ , Liam. Lower your voice before you wake them up.”

“But that’s the _point_ \- no, hey, what? Give me my tablet back! I’m sorry!”

Dream stirs awake, groggily registering the sound of hushed voices and the harsh sunlight streaming in through the open windows; then the heavy weight on top of him. 

He tries weakly to push it off, still half asleep, but whatever it is doesn’t budge and instead burrows itself deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. A sharp pain shoots through his neck when he lifts his head, and he winces, struggling to readjust himself underneath the man laying on top of him.

Right, shit. He’d fallen asleep with George on the couch the night before, and was now paying for it with a sore neck and an even sorer back. He makes a mental note not to let it happen again, for the sake of his poor aching bones, and gently extracts his arm from underneath George’s to shake him. 

George groans, burying his face in the crook of Dream’s neck. “Five more minutes,” he murmurs, voice muffled.

Dream ignores the heat blooming in his chest at the feeling of George’s skin brushing against his neck, soft and fleeting. Deciding that it’s probably not the end of the world if the day ahead of them waits for just a few more minutes, he complies, absentmindedly tracing circles onto George’s back and matching the steady rhythm of his breathing. 

After what he’s pretty sure is around five minutes, he reluctantly pulls back, moving his hands up to tap George’s shoulder and prompt him to sit up. 

“George? George, man, you gotta get up. I know, I’m sorry, but my back hurts like hell and I have to _pee_ ,” he says, trying to keep his voice as low and soft as possible. 

He offers an apologetic smile and gently ruffles George’s hair as he begrudgingly lifts his head just enough to peer up at Dream, eyes brimming with the last remnants of sleep. 

Dream is sure he's imagining things, looking for something that’s not there, but he could swear he sees George's eyes momentarily dip down to his lips. Dream's breath catches unexpectedly in his throat, but thankfully, before he gets the chance to overthink, George’s eyes are back on his own and he’s pushing himself up and off the couch. 

George shuffles around the couch, excusing himself, and Dream is left with a sudden lack of body heat that chills him to his core. He briefly considers curling back in on himself and burying his head under the pillows. His peace is short lived, however, and before long he feels a small hand excitedly tapping on his shin.

“Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream _Dream_! Get up! I need the couch pillows to build my fort and I’ve been waiting for _hours_ and you’re in my way!” Liam exclaims, urging Dream up and ushering him impatiently off the couch.

Sighing, Dream resigns himself to the day ahead of him, dragging a hand down his face. He wills himself to wake up as he pads through the hallway to the bathroom and turns the faucet, hissing at the coldness of the water when it hits his face. Straightening up, he lingers in front of the mirror, frowning at the cowlicks that stick up at the back of his head and the water droplets clinging to his jaw. 

After a couple of minutes, he grows frustrated with his unsuccessful attempts to flatten his hair and gives up. Suddenly, his stomach growls angrily, startling him, and he decides that instead of ordering takeout or reheating week-old pizza like he normally would, he might as well make the most of the kitchen while he has one.

He makes his way to the kitchen, waving off Kay’s apologies for Liam’s abrupt wake-up call as he passes the living room. Soon, he’s settled into a familiar rhythm, pulling ingredients from shelves and mixing batter. It’s calming, in a way, and as much as he enjoys living at uni with his friends, he can’t deny the relief he feels when he spends time at home during breaks.

He looks up from the bubbling batter when he hears footsteps behind him and mutters a short greeting before turning back and prodding at the pancake with his spatula.

Receiving no response, Dream turns around, curious, and does a double take when he sees George. 

George is leaning against the doorframe, face pinched as he preoccupies himself with balancing James on his hip and repeatedly batting away his tiny, persistent hands as the one year old tugs on George’s hair, sending himself into gleeful laughing fits.

“George, why are you holding my baby nephew at 8 a.m. _in the morning_ ,” Dream says flatly. 

George’s head snaps to face him and he lets out a short huff, blowing a stray strand of hair off of his forehead. “8 a.m. in the– I’m still half asleep, I can’t do this. Sofie, like, _speedran_ past me in the hallway the second I stepped out of the room and shoved James at me before just leaving.” 

He pauses to direct a desperately whispered “ _stop_!” at James, and looks back to Dream with pleading eyes. “Could you please just take this stupid baby?” 

Dream shakes his head, gesturing with the spatula in his hand as if it should be obvious. “Sorry, George. I can’t cook and hold a baby at the same time. Why’d Sofie leave, did she say?” 

“Uh, I think so, she said something about running to the store for formula? I don’t know, I haven’t had time to process being awake.” 

“You’re so dramatic. You’re fine, he looks... comfy?”

George pushes for a minute longer, trying to guilt trip Dream by whining about how he doesn’t know what to do if James spits up on him, to which Dream just responds with “clean it?” and goes back to humming as he flips the pancakes out of the plan and onto a plate with a flourish.

When he turns around, he sees to his surprise that George has taken a seat at the kitchen island and is now cooing playfully at a giggling James sat on the counter in front of him. Dream watches fondly as George pokes gentle jabs at James’ cheeks, eliciting gleeful laughter that causes the corners of his own mouth to turn up.

Eventually, Dream tears his eyes away from the two boys at the counter to finish the plate of pancakes, cutting himself off mid-curse when he accidentally drips syrup onto his hand. He stares at the full plate for a moment, debating, then picks it up and crosses the kitchen to set it down in front of George wordlessly. 

George glances up at him, ignoring the insistent pats of James’ hand on his cheek at the lack of attention, and his brows knit together momentarily. 

“Is that for me?”

Dream shrugs. “Well, yeah, idiot. You need to eat. Now give me my baby so you can eat and I can finish making my own breakfast.”

George blocks Dream’s outstretched hand before he can pick James up. “I thought you said you couldn’t hold a baby and cook at the same time?”

“I lied,” Dream says blankly, blinking. 

George’s raised eyebrow immediately morphs into an annoyed eye roll. “Bastard. Well, what if I don’t _want_ to hand him over?” 

“Then don’t.” Dream makes a move to return to the stove and stops with a knowing smile when George hastily backtracks, calling after him.

“No, no, I do want you to take him. I’m hungry and he’s loud and he’s getting in my way.” 

Dream obliges, happily scooping James up and settling him on his hip, letting his head rest on his right shoulder as he moves through the kitchen. He finishes cooking the rest of the pancake batter as quickly as he can, opting out of washing the bowl properly in favor of soaking it.

Balancing his plate in one hand and James in the other, Dream looks up to catch George watching him intently, an indecipherable look on his face as he rests his chin in his hand. Dream grows restless under his gaze, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Whatcha looking at?”

The look on George’s face dissipates immediately and he goes back to eating without sparing a second glance. “Your hair is sticking up all over.”

Dream scowls at him, reaching a hand up self-consciously in a feeble attempt to pat down his feral hair.

They go about the rest of the day lazily, at one point seeking out Sapnap to play Mario Kart, which Drista interrupts, pestering them until they let her join in. Afterwards, they try to watch a movie, but end up arguing so much over their inability to agree on _Legally Blonde_ that they get sent out of the house by Dream’s mom to take a walk and cool down.

Eventually, when the sun begins to dip below the horizon and the sky develops a dark evening haze, everyone is rounded up to go out for a “surprise”, which turns out to be a drive-through light show at the local church.

Most of the ride is spent trying to block out the overlapping sound of Christmas music blasting from the car speakers and the kids screaming obnoxiously every time they see a talking lightbulb or a lit up Santa Claus, but it’s not unenjoyable.

At one point during the ride, George drops his head down onto Dream’s shoulder in the backseat and his stomach flutters. He knows it’s purely as a show for the other people in the car with them, and he feels stupid for caring about such a small action, but it’s just so hard, because it’s _George_ , and getting affection like this is such a rare occurrence with him. It sends his brain spiraling and the worst part is, he can’t even place why. 

Instead of going straight home once the light show is over, the car pulls into a lot down the road and everyone gets out, clamoring over each other and passing short insults on their way.

Once everyone’s made it out of the car and onto solid ground, Liam hopping around and hollering at the sudden coldness of the pavement while Sofie chides him for not wearing shoes, Dream’s mom claps her hands together, beckoning the group in to listen as she talks. 

“Right, gang– everyone knows the drill. We leave for Grandma and Grandpa’s tomorrow, and we have to get a tree to take with us. I wanna do it a little differently this year, though, because quite frankly I am sick and tired of listening to three hours worth of arguing and coming home with a lousy tree at one in the morning. So, we’re going to split into teams.” 

She moves as she speaks, breaking people off into pairs with clipped hand motions. “Dream will be with George, Sofie and Kay with their kids, and Sapnap, you’ll be with Drista.” 

“Ew, but she’s so _sweaty_ , I don’t want to be-”

“ _Sapnap_. I love having you here but if you keep insulting my daughter we are going to have issues. I swear, you two are like peas in a pod. Each team will cover a different area of the tree farm, and comes back with _one_ ,” she puts emphasis on the one, as if she doesn’t trust them to listen, “tree suggestion and we’ll pick from there.” 

“Wait, Mom, whose team are you on?” Drista asks, cocking her head. 

“My own. Duh. Now shoo,” she replies, impatiently waving her hands at them.

Dream watches as Sofie kneels down and whispers something in Liam’s ear, grinning as she uses her knee to push herself back up and watch the 8 year old run off. Sapnap and Drista follow soon after, breaking off from the group and playfully bickering on their way.

He feels a presence behind him, whirling around to see George standing directly behind his back, moving his eyes from their fixed spot over Dream’s shoulder to meet his gaze.

“They’re more sibling-y than you and Drista yourselves are, Dream. I think you’re being replaced.”

Dream snorts at that. “ _Sibling-y_ , that’s not even a word,” he counters, starting the trek to the far end of the tree lot without checking to see if George was following him. 

“It could be. You don’t know, you’re not a walking dictionary,” George retorts, earning an eye roll from Dream.

They walk in silence for a moment before George breaks it again, wanting to know the whys of the family’s apparent annual tradition of getting a Christmas tree so close to Christmas and then driving it three states away.

Shrugging, Dream absentmindedly shoves his hands into his pockets. “My grandparents kind of live in, like, the middle of nowhere. Well, not the middle of nowhere, it’s, like, civilized and stuff, but you know what I mean. Anyway, they started relying on us to provide a tree every year because all the trees there are way too huge to fit in their house and I think the closest tree farm sets up shop an hour away from where they live or something.”

George hums quietly, and then all of a sudden he stops in his tracks, holding out an arm and pointing at something to their left. 

It’s a short tree, on the smaller end of five feet tall, and that’s being generous. The deep green of the pine needles stand out in stark contrast against the brittle dimness of the dark sky behind it, which would be nice to look at if it didn’t only serve to emphasize the sparseness in between each thin branch.

“George, tell me you’re not about to suggest that we get that tree.”

George crosses his arms defensively, angling his body towards Dream. “Why not? It’s a perfectly good tree, I think it looks nice.”

Dream scoffs. “Are you kidding? That thing is so _trash_ , it’s as shrimpy as you.”

Letting out an indignant cry, George dramatically stomps over to the tree, wrapping his arms awkwardly around the topmost branches and yelping when they scratch his arms. “I’m not shrimpy, why are you like this? It’s a small tree, it’ll definitely fit in your grandparent’s house.”

Dream lets out a long sigh. The tree sucks, like, a lot, and he knows they won’t end up getting this one, and he tells himself that’s the reason he gives in to George. Not because of his dumbass puppy dog eyes or his stupid pouting lips. Definitely not.

“Fine. Stop hugging the goddamn tree, you win. I still think it’s stupid, but you win.” 

George smiles, triumphant, and walks back to Dream, waiting as Dream snaps a picture of the tree with his phone before turning to find and meet up with everyone else. 

Silence settles over them, filling the air as they walk, almost providing a comfortable sense of warmth. George’s hand brushes against Dream’s every time one of them swings their arm, and he almost wishes that George would reach out and lace his fingers with Dream’s like he had the day prior.

Of course, though, he doesn’t. Because that would be weird.

They reach the lot where they’d parked, finding that everyone else had already grouped back up by the bumper of the car and were exchanging photos, trying to decide on which tree to get.

“Dream, George! What’d you find, show us,” Kay calls out to them, waving the two boys over with a smile.

Dream shakes his head, leaning against the trunk of the car and resting his head in the palm of his hand. “I can’t, I’m ashamed of it.” 

Slapping Dream’s arm with a scoff, George sidles up to him and takes his arm, maneuvering it around his shoulders and snuggling into his side. Dream casts a glance down at him, surprised, and sees that he’s shivering, barely noticeable in the overcast, dim atmosphere.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.”

Dream laughs and takes his arm back, eliciting an annoyed protest from the shorter boy. “I told you to bring a jacket, dumbass, it _does_ get cold at night,” he says, shrugging off his own sweatshirt and holding it out in a silent offer to George, who eyes it hesitantly before grabbing it and pulling it on. 

“Well, sorry I didn’t expect Florida to be cold. My bad, I must be stupid,” he deadpans, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Careful, Georgie, I might take my sweater back if you don’t start being nice.”

George’s mouth snaps shut almost immediately and he turns away, bundling deeper into the warm fabric. 

“Hey, idiots, if you’re done flirting, Mom said she found a cool barn at the back of the tree farm and she wants to go check it out. Snapmap went to help Kay get the tree and then they’ll meet us there,” Drista says, clearing her throat way more loudly than necessary.

Dream takes his eyes off of George, now frowning at his younger sister. “You guys decided on a tree without us?”

Drista throws her hands up, exasperated, as she spins around on her heel. “We didn’t want to interrupt you guys? Sorry for trying to be considerate, it won’t happen again. Promise,” she calls behind her.

The barn that Dream’s mom had found turns out to actually be a nice place to stop and hang out for a minute. There’s a roaring bonfire just outside the doors with logs placed in a rough circle around it as a place for people to sit together, and from inside the barn floats the scent of peppermint and gingerbread. George soon realizes excitedly that there’s a concessions booth inside selling assorted Christmas treats and hurries off with a promise to be back in a minute. 

Everyone else settles by the fire, warming their hands by the flames licking the air in glowing orange tendrils. Sapnap cranes his neck to look back into the barn, then turns to Dream with a wicked smile. 

“Hey Dream, your _boyfriend_ is under the mistletoe.”

It’s now Dream’s turn to whip his head around to look, and he realizes with a start that Sapnap is right. He quickly shakes his head, trying his best to dismiss it before it becomes a thing.

“I’m not going over there, he’s probably gonna come back in a minute anyway.”

So, of course, he ends up going over there, after unrelenting teasing insistence from everyone present. 

“Oh, Dream, hi, you have to try this, it’s actually really good,” George says when he sees Dream approach him, offering up his last piece of peppermint bark.

Instead of answering, Dream takes George’s waist in his hands, gesturing with his eyes at the mistletoe hanging above them. George follows his gaze, confusion clearly painted on his face, but brings his free hand up to cover Dream’s hand on his waist anyway.

“What are you-”

“My family is watching, is this okay? Can I?”

Realization slowly dawns on George’s face. Before either of them gets the chance to back away, George is pushing himself up onto his tiptoes, pressing his lips to Dream’s.

With a trembling hand, Dream reaches up to George's cheek, only lightly ghosting the fiery skin before George pulls away and they lock eyes, neither of them sure enough to make the next move. 

God, George is going to be the death of him.

Dream moves his hand back down, instead resting it in a fistful of his jacket. He’s the first to break eye contact, his line of vision dipping down to the peppermint bark still in George’s hand.

“Can I try that now?” he asks, grinning innocently as George seemingly short circuits under his gaze.

He holds it out, unmoving as Dream lets go of his waist and takes it, popping it into his mouth with a crunch. 

“Mm, that actually is really good.”

“Uh. Yeah, it is. We should probably...” George trails off, weakly nodding in the direction of everyone else sitting around the bonfire. Dream detaches himself completely and looks to see Drista standing tall on one of the logs, fake-retching and saying something about PDA. 

They rejoin the group, ignoring the various “ _ooooh’s_ ” and eyebrow wiggles from the other, albeit more immature, adults. 

George falls back into conversation with Sapnap, and Dream listens but doesn’t really register any of the words passed between them.

He’d known this realization was inevitable, but that doesn't stop it from hitting him like a truck. Sitting here, listening to the sound of George’s laugh ringing out, clear and piercing in the stillness of the night. Looking at the soft curve of his cheeks as he smiles from ear to ear, and the way that the warm light from the fire dances across his face and illuminates the bright shine in his eyes. He finds his eyes trailing down; allows himself to think about the gentle curve of his lips and the buzzing feeling they'd left against his own. 

He likes him. 

No shit, he likes him. No matter how much he struggles to come to terms with the hard-to-swallow truth, it's nothing new.

Their friendship's always toed the line between platonic, just two homies being dudes, and something more. Dream knows that, and his desperate attempts to avoid the surfacing feelings every time George laughs at his jokes or leans into his touches for as long as he can remember have grandly failed, since the very moment George had first reluctantly asked him to study together.

"Dream? Hey, are you okay?"

Dream blinks, shaking himself out of the zone he'd ended up lost in. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just kinda cold."

George snorts. "Maybe you should've brought a jacket, then,” he says, emphasizing his point by flipping up the hood on the sweatshirt Dream had given him.

"You– you're so stupid, I hate you," Dream says, but a breathy laugh lilts his voice and he knows it's useless.

\---

It’s incredibly early in the morning, still pitch black outside, when Dream is woken up by something moving loudly next to his head. 

“George? George, are you okay?” he asks, voice heavy and slightly slurred with sleep. 

“Shit, sorry, I’m fine. I’m just– go back to bed; please?” 

Growing concerned at the small waver in George’s voice, Dream turns his head over on his pillow, the cold fabric dragging across his face and beckoning him back to sleep, to look up at George. The second he registers the blotchy tear tracks on his face, he sits up, now fully awake. 

“Are you crying? What’s wrong?”

George gives a small laugh, quiet and guarded, and shakes his head. “Seriously, it’s stupid. I’m not even like– it’s not a big deal or anything, it was literally just a dumb nightmare, and when I woke up from it I just got really homesick all of a sudden. It just happens sometimes, I’ll be fine in, like, two minutes.” 

Judging by the look on George’s face, every line and curve of his skin laced with embarrassment and exhaustion, it was a bigger deal than he was letting on, but Dream knew better than to ask about it. It’d happened before, in their dorm, and every time, Dream has just dropped it and gone back to bed. 

But now, Dream finds himself wanting to hold him, to kiss it better, hide him away for just a moment.

So he does.

He reaches out and pulls George into his chest in a measured move, and maybe he's crossing a million boundaries as he sits with his best friend enveloped in his embrace, but he doesn't care. Caring for each other is something that best friends do, and he knows George won't think anything of what he's doing, but the thin layer of guilt is there nonetheless.

When George doesn't make any attempts to pull away, settling into Dream's lap with a sigh, Dream cautiously combs his fingers through his friend's hair, settling into a soothing pattern. Then, slowly, as if to escape his own notice and catch even himself by surprise, he presses a gentle kiss into George's hair.

"Thank you," George whispers, and they stay like that for only a moment longer before George abruptly pulls back and crawls back under the comforter. 

Dream worries that he’d done something wrong, crossed an unspoken boundary that wasn’t meant to be crossed, but just as he’s sure George has fallen asleep, George reaches blindly to tug on Dream’s sleeve without lifting his head. 

“Lay down, you idiot,” he mumbles, barely audible.

He guides him to settle back under the blankets with him, this time with his chest flush against George’s back and his arm haphazardly slung across his torso, and despite Dream’s rapidly beating heart betraying him they fall asleep once more to the comforting feeling of just knowing that the other was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream idiot arc lets go


End file.
